


Nobody's Fool

by poisontaster



Series: Heart 'Verse [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning After, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-18
Updated: 2007-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5707039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morning after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody's Fool

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kultiras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kultiras/gifts).



> So I asked people what I should write. And kultiras said: "Heartverse, Preferably something right after Love Lies Waiting with Dean and the guitar." So this follows Love Lies Waiting, which really should be it's own arc by now of "Dean and his guitar" stories. LOL.

Sam wakes leisurely and to the sound of strumming.

Pleasure suffuses him like tropical seawater, washing from his toes up his aching thighs and arms all the way to the roots of his hair. Dean's playing the guitar again.

Some habits never really go away; years of trying to avoid his father's attention taught Sam to lie still and relaxed with every appearance of sleep. It helps that he _is_ relaxed, flush with the lax laziness of having his brains repeatedly fucked out and a long, dreamless sleep.

He doesn't recognize the song Dean's playing; simple but sweet, repetitive chords, the kind of thing a novice can learn and still sound impressive mastering. Sam's impressed, listening Dean run through it, and the breathy half-sound of his whispered singing. Sam is also more than a little turned on by it and he wonders if—after the song's done, of course—he can persuade Dean to come back to bed for a while before they hit showers and breakfast and whatever else today holds.

"You're not fooling anybody you know," Dean says suddenly, the guitar strings twanging brief protest as he covers them with his palm.

Sam remembers too late that Dean was always the one who knew when he was truly asleep or just malingering. "And here I thought you were trying to serenade me back to sleep." Sam rolls up, a little surprised by the ache in his abs, and grins at his brother. Dean's wearing nothing but his boxers and amulet, toes curled up with cold (Dean's feet are always cold) and his hair in little-boy sleep-spikes. Sam's smile widens and he widens his thighs to make room for his swelling cock.

Dean gets kind of red in the face—only noticeable as his freckles fade into it—and looks down, the guitar kilted familiarly on his thigh. There's a bite mark there and Sam remembers giving it to Dean vividly and with great self satisfaction. "Just fucking around," Dean mutters, his fingers smoothing the wood unconsciously.

"Hey, I like that idea," Sam says, shoving the covers off and away to show his naked, sprawled body. He watches Dean's toes uncurl, his thighs tighten. "Let's fuck around."

Dean's grin is all the answer he needs.


End file.
